


Narrator The

by cornerandchair



Category: Greater Boston (Podcast), What’s the Frequency (podcast)
Genre: Gen, Meaningful echos, Spoilers for GB season 3, Spoilers for WTF season finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 11:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15971321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornerandchair/pseuds/cornerandchair
Summary: Leon narrates a man locked in a room against his will.





	Narrator The

There was a certain sense of irony that came with The Narrator’s current position. Stormed out of a story that--while he did not have a deep emotional connection to it, he did care about it. Now brought into this story as normal character and locked away in the home of a madman, told to read a script as it prints.

His process is gone and his connection is… Well that’s not quite gone. He found, on the moments while he was waiting on the printer, if he concentrated enough he could feel the veil, in fact if he focused in the quieter moments he could almost brush past it…

Like right now.

“Leon? Oh thank god, _Leon!_ ”

Hello.

“Are you- Are you narrating me?”

This is the job you left me with, so, yes. I am narrating you.

“Why? I’m not a part of that story anymore.”

You narrated me and all of my friends and acquaintances, so now, I suppose it only seems fair I narrate you.

“That… makes sense. Can you… help me get out of here?”

Help you? I’m not a character in that story. I can’t _do_ anything there except narrate you.

“But you have to try!” 

Have to? I don’t _have_ to do anything except my job, which used to be your job until you threw a tantrum and left.

“You- you can’t just leave me locked up here, Leon!”

Like you left Michael locked in Oliver’s office.

“Oh. So this is revenge, then.”

No, this is _my job_. There’s a process.

“Oh, _fuck_ your--”

The printer finished the next page of the script, and The Narrator was snapped back to his present moment. Locked in a hidden room against his will, at the mercy of a villain far more competent than any villain he was used to as his connection to Greater Boston slowly waned, leaving him alone and cut off from everything he ever knew.  
I’m sorry this is happening to you, I really am. But once again, I am powerless to do anything to change it. But I won’t abandon you. That I can promise.


End file.
